Vákoum: Speaking the Language of Vulnerable Love

Shedding a saturation that took place during the writing and recording of the album Linchpin, the band Vákoum have arrived in a space where they don’t need to hide anymore. The project is led by musical and life partners Kelli Rudick and Natalia Padilla, and the complex and hidden messages that reside with their signature, tonal complexities and metaphoric lyricism were once the only way the two could communicate. 

The language of life, love, loss, trauma, and unresolved resentments buried deep within their art, and as a strain of trust and willpower arose, their music became the only language in which they could express their innermost selves.

The pair originally met in 2012, when Padilla signed up for a guitar clinic that Rudick was holding. Having been familiar with Rudick’s work already through a recorded collaboration with a band called The Books, her distinctive style of innovative guitar playing sparked a curiosity within Padilla. With ulterior motives, the two extremely talented musicians formed a fast friendship, which then developed into romance, which then developed into starting Vákoum. However, that melding of art and life didn’t always go smoothly.

“It was tough in the sense that we both did a solo thing before we met each other, and we’re both very strong-minded when it comes to ideas. If you get an attachment to something, it’s hard to reach a meeting point, but now there’s a deeper respect, you know, for the things that come out,” Rudick explains.

The nature of art meets in an intersection of vulnerability and experimentation, an intimate experience that took the two some time to transition from independent process to critical  feedback, and ultimately evaluation, influence, and collaboration.

The band name Vákoum arose from a brainstorming moment in an Italian restaurant and was a conceptual manifestation of their sound; directly derived from the Hebrew word meaning vacuum. Leaning into their desire to take things in, to listen, to process, and then experience the outflow of ideas, Rudick and Padilla felt that in order to musically create something so unique and original, they had to be almost in a state of nothingness, a completely empty vacuum, to receive the inspiration they were wanting to eventually produce.

That unrivaled desire to create something anomalous led them to a land of experimental pop with a resonance that is moody, textured, abstract, and anxious. The multi-instrumentalists weave multi-effect processing and synthesis, refining their guitar competencies within the rhythmic realm of production effects that rival EDM and techno genres. Featuring Bulgarian-inspired vocals that nestle within a Bjork-esque vein, the haunting elements draw into the subconscious mind and spark a curiosity and creativity in the listener.

Linchpin is the convergence of all of the things they expertly execute working simultaneously together while conflict and introspection emerge. The new album stands as a representation of a point in time where life became art, and with that came growing pains through the past, living in and letting go of childhood trauma and the emotional wreckage that existed long before the two ever met.

“The writing process is more personal, but then it’s like the way in which we can talk to each other sometimes, maybe the only way that is super deep into the heart,” Padilla says. The discomfort in sharing some of the intimate details of not only why they were inspired to write the songs they did, but how they conveyed the depths of their emotions to one another, is palpable.

Rudick picks up where Padilla leaves off. “It’s the ultimate way of letting somebody into your world, because it’s beyond just words. I could sit and say, ‘Hey, these things you do, they make me feel a certain way.’ It’s completely different than when you put it in the language of music; it lives in a completely different realm.”

The couple explain that while there may be pain conveyed in a lyric or melody, it doesn’t ever truly hurt because it is delivered with beauty and necessity. Allowing music to act as a therapist, it gives them permission to say the things that may be hard to say, but ultimately required. This, in turn, allows them to express themselves and grow closer in the process.

When the harmony of composition and songwriting comes to life and is completed, it surpasses every other feeling. Rudick explains that when a song comes together, they find a space of gratitude for the powerful force that is connection through creation.

“We usually cry, like seriously, we just look at each other because we both have this burning sensation in our eyes and our chests; it’s like those tears are almost like your body’s intelligence. It just takes over you, and you let go of all the things; you realize, like, the outcome is so beautiful, and it’s so meaningful to our relationship,” Padilla explains.

Vulnerability begets vulnerability, and when we can experience music, art, conversation, self-expression, and connection in a genuine and authentic way, it invites us to participate. As Vákoum take listeners on a beautiful journey of discovering who they are and what they are passionate about, it inspires us to let down our guard, speak our truth, and listen for what our intuition is truly saying.  

Photos courtesy of Vákoum